


With a little help

by fandammit



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Blake sibling feels, Dad!Kane, Delinquent shenanigans, F/M, Gen, Kane and Abby as everyone's parents, Murphy as a medical assistant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9110065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandammit/pseuds/fandammit
Summary: “We didn’t get married since I last saw you. I just - .” He pauses and looks at Octavia, trying to find a way to explain that girlfriend seems too juvenile and temporary a thing to describe what Abby is to him, while partner is too sterile and unassuming to encompass all that she means. He shrugs as he levels the pack of supplies on his shoulder. “I don’t really know the word for what Abby and I are to one another.”-------------The delinquents talk to one another and to Kane and Abby about why they aren't married.





	1. Chapter 1

He’s putting his newly bought supplies from the fruit vendor in his pack when he feels Octavia’s hard stare at his back. He turns towards her and tilts his head, a questioning look in his eyes to meet her piercing stare.

“Yes?”

“You didn’t correct her.”

He furrows his brow in confusion.

“What?” 

She motions towards the older grounder woman in the vendor stall behind them.

“You didn’t correct her when she called Abby your wife.”

He looks at Octavia for a long moment.

“Ah,” he finally says when it becomes obvious that she isn’t just going to let it go.

“You guys didn’t…” A look of hurt flashes across her face, quickly replaced by a practiced look of indifference. “I mean, I know I’m away a lot, so - .”

He shakes his head and reaches over to lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“We didn’t get married since I last saw you. I just - .” He pauses and looks at Octavia, trying to find a way to explain that girlfriend seems too juvenile and temporary a thing to describe what Abby is to him, while partner is too sterile and unassuming to encompass all that she means. He shrugs as he levels the pack of supplies on his shoulder. “I don’t really know the word for what Abby and I are to one another.”

She huffs at that, though he knows he doesn’t imagine the look of relief on her face. After a moment, he sees a sly look blossom across her features.

“So,” she begins, elongating the oh sound, “I actually think the word you’re looking for is married.” He shakes his head at that and begins walking towards the bread stall at the far end of the market. She keeps pace with him and elbows him sharply below his ribs. “C’mon, Kane. You know you two were pretty much married even before you officially got together.”

He doesn’t say anything at that, mostly because he can’t really disagree with any sort of conviction. He stops to look over the wares at a metal-working stall, hoping to distract Octavia with the wicked looking weapons that are hanging up before them.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. She simply stops next to him and turns away from the stall to face him, bouncing on the balls of her feet.   

“So, are you gonna ask her?”

He blinks rapidly at her before rearranging his features into something approaching nonchalant.

“Well, according to you, we’ve been married for about a year already, so.” He lifts a shoulder in a casual half-shrug and continues looking at the metalwork in front of them.

She blows out an impatient breath and rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, but you guys should, you know, do it up proper. Make it official.”

He turns and raises an eyebrow at her.

“I never expected you to be into taking the proper route.”

She shrugs at that, a ghost of a grin on her lips.

“Well,” she admits, “it’s not for everyone.” She catches him looking at two intricately wrought rings laid out on the table in front of them and grins sharply at him. “But it seems right for the two of you.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long, expectant moment. Octavia doesn’t either, simply fixes him with a weighty stare and waits.

Finally, he turns towards her with a sigh.

“It just - it’s been - I mean, we just haven’t had the time to even talk about getting married.” He shakes his head and gives her a wry grin. “We have been a little bit preoccupied.”  

“But it’s a possibility?”

He tilts his head, considering. Between saving the world and keeping Arkadia running, quiet moments of personal introspection have been few and far-between. Still, he won’t deny the appeal of hearing Abby referred to as his wife; can’t, really, seeing as Octavia’s just caught him relishing it firsthand.

“It’s somewhere between a possibility and a plan,” he finally says with a smile.

She nods slowly, an inscrutable look on her face.

“I’ll take that - for now.”

He laughs out loud at that.

“Glad I could meet your standard.”

The corner of her mouth turns up in a half smile as she knocks her shoulder into his.

“Just, you know, I do wanna be there whenever you guys decide to make it official.”

He smiles down at her and nods.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

* * *

Clarke looks around the medical bay, her face falling when she sees her mom isn’t there. After a moment, she spots Murphy sorting through supplies at the far end of the room.

“Hey,” she calls out and waits for him to look over at her, “do you know when Kane’s birthday is?”

“Why,” he drawls out, “would I possibly know that information off the top of my head?”

Clarke shrugs.

“You say that like you don’t have everyone’s blood type memorized.”

He looks away, as if he’s vaguely embarrassed to be caught caring about someone other than himself, and busies himself with cleaning out the supplies in front of him.

“Why not ask your mom?” He asks, still not looking at her, “I’m pretty sure she knows.”

She sighs and walks over to him.

“I would, but they’re basically inseparable ever since he got back from that diplomatic mission with the Shallow Valley Clan.”

Murphy snorts and shakes his head.

“Believe me, I know.” He looks up at her, a questioning look in his eyes. “What do you need it for, anyway?”

“I wanna make sure I get him something. He got me - uh ,” she clears her throat and looks down at her hands for a moment, “he made sure to get me something for mine, even though it was in the middle of everything.”

Murphy looks curious at her evasion, but doesn’t press her to reveal her gift. Instead, he just clears his throat and reaches for a datapad that’s lying on his desk, lobbing it at her from across the operating table.

“Check his file. I do know that it’s coming up kind of soon. It’s only, like, a few days before your mom’s, weirdly enough.”  

She nods and switches the datapad on, scrolling through the medical records with her finger.

“Oh, make sure to look under Griffin-Kane,” Murphy says when she wrinkles her brow down at the screen.

He meets Clarke’s confused look with an easy shrug.

“That’s the name your mom put when she filed hers and Kane’s records,” he explains when she tilts her head at him, perplexed, “she files married couples together to save time and data.”

She blinks rapidly, surprise clearly written across her features.

“But - ,” she starts, staring dumbly at Murphy, “they aren’t married.”

He shoots her a wry grin.

“Aren’t they?”

She doesn’t say anything, just looks back down at the datapad in her hands and furrows her brows. He studies her expression, then sighs and walks over to stand in front of her.

“Hey, I’m joking. They’re just medical records, Clarke, not a marriage certificate.” He leans against the operating table opposite of her and crosses his arms. “And - I mean - would it really be so bad if they were?”

She looks up at him and breaths in deeply. Thinks of the way Kane looks every time her mom threads her fingers through his - soft and gratified and a little bit stunned, as if he still can’t quite believe how happy he is. Pictures the way her mother always smiles at Kane when he enters a room, the way she leans into him at the end of a long day.

“No, it wouldn’t be so bad,” she says finally.

And just like that, it’s true.

“It’d actually be really good, don’t you think?”

He shrugs, though the movement is more careful than he lets on.

“I think,” he replies, looking at her closely, “that I’m not the one you should be telling that to.”

* * *

“Hey.”

Bellamy looks up and sees Octavia standing in front of him, her expression careful and controlled. It’s restrained in a way he still has to get used to, discreet in a way that makes his chest ache.

Still, he reminds himself, it’s better than what he used to get from her - a look of unbridled rage or curdled fury that flushed guilt into his veins and knocked the air from his lungs. He recognizes that saving the world together will still never be saving Lincoln, but the fact that she at least makes sure to check in with him every time she comes to camp is its own kind of progress.

“Hey,” he says, a cautious half-smile on his face. “You look good.”

She nods but doesn’t answer, instead studies the flurry of movement in the village around them.

“What’s going on?” She waves her hands around at the harried looking people around them. “Why all the preparation?”

“A delegation from the Plains Riders is arriving day after tomorrow.” He sees Octavia’s face fall for a split second before her features smooth out to practiced blandness once more. “What were you hoping for?”

She shrugs, her eyes tracking movement just to his right. He turns and follows her gaze to Abby, who’s making her way to where Kane is standing just inside the walls of Arkadia. Even from where he’s standing he can see the way Kane immediately relaxes when he spots Abby walking up to him; watches as his hand immediately rests on the small of her back as she leans in to speak to him.

“Why do you think they aren’t married?” Octavia asks suddenly, looking at him closely.

He turns back to look at her, unable to hide his surprise.

“Uh - I guess - I don’t really know.” He crosses his arms in front of him and rubs a hand across his chin. “I don’t really think about it too much.”

She turns away from him, looking down at the ground in front of her with a scowl.

“Forget it. It’s a stupid question.”

“No,” he interjects quickly, and maybe it’s more forceful than it needs to be, but it suddenly occurs to him that this might be the first conversation she’s initiated with him in weeks that hasn’t been dripping with hostility or condescension.

“It’s not a stupid question,” he follows up, softening his tone as she looks back up at him. “I mean, I don’t think about it a lot but I have thought about it before.” He looks over at Kane and Abby, their heads now bowed low over a datapad. Kane’s hand is threaded through Abby’s hair while her arm wrapped around his waist. “I guess I just figured that Kane’s not really into the whole marriage thing. He wasn’t before - on the Ark, I mean.”

Octavia looks over at him, her eyebrow raised.

“Marrying Abby was never an option before.”

He huffs a laugh at that.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He rocks back on his heels and leans back, bracing his hands on the table that’s behind them. “Why are you wondering? Did Kane say something to you?”

She leans against the table and crosses her arms in front of her.

“Not really - just that it was somewhere between a possibility and plan.” She glances over at him, then shrugs. “That was weeks ago, though. I was kind of hoping that it’d move into the plan category by the time I came back around.”

“Well, he was gone a while to meet with the Shallow Valley clan. And things have been really hectic around here since then - different delegations making contact and brokering trade agreements.” He looks over at Octavia, then back over to where Kane and Abby are talking. “He probably hasn’t even had time to think about it.”

Octavia huffs at that.

“What’s to think about? It’s obvious that they should be already.” She shakes her head. “They just need to get to it.”

Bellamy looks closely at her, studies her expression when she looks up to meet his stare.

“This is - .” He pauses, turning the words over in his mind to make sure they come out right. “This is important to you.”

It’s not a question, but she finds it necessary to explain anyway.

“It’s just - it means something, Bell.” His heart clenches at the childhood nickname. For a moment, it’s almost like the ghosts of all their combined bad choices aren’t standing between them. “Not everyone gets to have what they have. I think it’s worth it to celebrate for the people that do.”

He nods slowly at her.

“They deserve to celebrate,” he says quietly, not looking at her. “We all do.” He turns towards her. “You’re right, O.” He looks at her carefully as he lobs the nickname over at her. She doesn’t move, but he swears he sees the barest upturn at the corner of her mouth.

“Of course I’m right.” She looks over at him and now he’s sure that there’s a ghost of a smile lingering on her lips. “Maybe you could work on him when I’m not around, push him from possibility into plan.”

He grins at her.

“I’ll work on it.” He pushes against the table and straightens himself out before turning to look at her. “Although it might be easier if we’re both pushing him.” He leaves out the part that points out she’d have to be around Arkadia more in order for that to happen, but knows it comes across anyway when her expression turns pensive.

“I’ll think about it,” she says, and there’s something about the way she says it that makes him believe she actually will.

A bell rings out, cold and clear in the afternoon sky. He shoots her an apologetic look that she brushes off.

“Go. I know how much Kane hates late guards.”

He gives her a half smile.

“Later, O,” he says, and the nickname feels less heavy on his tongue this time.

She nods. After a moment’s hesitation, she reaches out and grabs him by the arm.

“You know the market that runs along the ridge by the lake?”

He looks down at her hand before looking back up at her.

“Yeah - the one that starts at the edge of the treeline?”

She nods.

“There’s a stall there that sells sweetbread - run by a little old lady named Yadira.” She moves her hand from his arm and rests it against the scabbard at her side. “If you want to get in touch with me, leave a message with her. I’ll get it.”

He blinks rapidly, trying not to read too much into the gesture.

“In case Kane and Abby move on their plans quicker than you think they will?”

She shrugs.

“For whatever.”

He nods slowly at her, trying to stifle the smile that’s threatening to break through his features.

“For whatever,” he echoes, looking up at her. She nods and this time he can’t help but smile at her.

She rolls her eyes at him, but there’s no mistaking the fondness in her eyes as she does.  

“I’ll see you around, Bell,” she says, already turning to walk away from him.

“Talk to you soon, O,” he calls out. She doesn’t turn around, just waves a hand in the air in his general direction as she heads back towards the outer gate.

* * *

“Clarke!”

She turns around and sees Kane walking over to her, a stack of what appears to be maps stuffed under his arm.

She smiles at him.

“Everything ok?”

He nods.

“Fine, just headed into a meeting about boundaries and trade routes with the delegation.” He shifts the stack of papers in his hand. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor, though.”

“Of course.”

“Can you drop by medical and make sure your mother takes a break to eat dinner? Force her, if necessary?”

Clarke smiles, tenderness for the man in front of her blossoming in her chest. It’s not exactly a novel feeling, but she’s still sometimes struck by all the ways he makes sure to take care of her mom.

“Did she have lunch?”

Kane huffs and shakes his head.

“I’d be surprised if she even managed breakfast. Half the delegation picked up some sort of illness on the journey over here, so she’s been swamped the whole day.” He looks down at the watch on his wrist and furrows his brow. “I’ll try to meet you both at dinner, but it all depends on how amenable they feel like being.”

Clarke nods, though she looks closely at him as she does, notes how pale and drawn he looks.

“Kane, have _you_ eaten anything all day?”

A guilty look creeps into his eyes.

“I haven’t.” Before she can say anything, he rushes on. “But I will eat. Your mom sent over a plate of food with Murphy earlier. It’s just sitting on top of my desk.”

She crosses her arms in front of her.

“How about this - I promise to get my mom to eat if you promise me that you’ll eat that plate of food before your meeting’s done.”

Kane grins at her and nods.

“Deal,” he agrees before checking his watch again.

“Good luck in there,” she says, motioning in the direction of the conference room.

Kane raises a brow at her.

“Good luck to you, too. You’ll have to teach me your tricks if you manage to convince Abby to leave medical in under five minutes.”

In the end, Clarke manages it in just under four. While her mother seems to be able to power through her work day on little else than sheer talent and stubbornness, she’s unable to withstand the combined appeal of a dinner with her only daughter and the last available cherry turnover until the next traveling market comes through Arkadia.

She watches her mother practically inhale the roast chicken and potatoes in front of her and tilts her head in disapproval.

“You didn’t eat breakfast or lunch today, did you?”

Abby doesn’t even really pause, just answers between chews.

“I wasn’t hungry then.”

Clarke shakes her head.

“I’m glad I ran into Kane in the hall, otherwise you probably would’ve passed out mid inoculation.”

Abby pauses and swallows the food in her mouth.

“Marcus sent you to check on me?” At Clarke’s nod, Abby huffs and shakes her head. “He sent you to check on me when he probably hasn’t even touched the food I sent him earlier,” she mutters, half under her breath.  

Clarke looks away as she tries to hide a smile.

“I’m sure he ate it, mom.” She meets her mother’s unconvinced look with one that she hopes conveys genuine belief in what she just said. After a moment, she clears her throat and pulls out a folded up map, pushes it across the table.

“I’m going to hike out in a few days to catch that traveling market that’s up by section 6.”

Abby looks at her, confused.

“What’s wrong with the trading post that’s nearby?”

“There’s a stall at this one that sells scavenged books. I thought I’d look for something for Kane - for his birthday. I figured that with everything that’s been going on, he probably hasn’t had the time to go out and get any new ones.”

Abby’s expression shifts into something more tender and warm, her mouth turning up in a soft smile.

“He’d like that.” She looks across the table at Clarke and grabs her hand, squeezing it tightly before sitting back in her chair. “You know, I didn’t even realize you knew when his birthday was.”

Clarke nods, though doesn’t say anything about medical files and a marriage in all but name. Instead, she picks at her food, sketching out figures in her mashed potatoes.

“You know that he gave me a set of art supplies for my birthday?”

Abby looks at her, surprised.

“I didn’t know that.” She furrows her brows in confusion. “Wait, your birthday was only a couple months ago. How did he manage to find art supplies with everything that was going on?”

Clarke smiles.

“Mount Weather. He said he found them during a supply run last winter and set them aside for me.”

It’s only as she’s saying it that she realizes just how extraordinary it really is, how hopeful a gesture is truly was. He had thought of her all those months ago, when she had been miles from home and far from happy; had imagined a world in which she would return, a life in which she would have the courage to create instead of destroy.

She looks at the fond expression on her mother’s face and takes a deep breath. In the next moment, she exhales her question in a rush.

“Mom, how come you guys aren’t married?” When Abby doesn’t say anything, she continues on, rushing through the list in her head. “It’s obvious you love each other. You live together. You even filed your medical records together. Why not make it official?”

Abby sets her fork down and leans forward, studying Clarke closely.

“It wouldn’t bother you.”

The words are declarative in tone, but there’s a wary, questioning look in Abby’s eyes that makes Clarke push an added layer of resolve into her tone.

“Of course not.” She stops short, guilt gathering cold and heavy in the pit of her stomach. “That’s not - that isn’t why you guys haven’t, is it?”

Abby shakes her head firmly.

“No, of course not. But I would never want to do anything that would upset you or make you feel - .”

“Mom, no. That’s - .” She shakes her head at her mom, trying to dispel any uncertainty she sees written across her face. “He cares about you how - the way you deserve to be cared for.” She chews her lip and looks away for a moment, wondering about all that her mother deserves. Mostly, she thinks of how much of a relief is it to have someone else, now. Someone else who loves like she loves. Someone who knows the price and the cost and the privilege of loving so hard. Someone who she knows will be around even when she isn’t, because he’s been there before when she couldn’t be.

She doesn’t say this; instead, she reaches across the table and covers Abby’s hands with her own.

“I want you to do whatever makes you the happiest, mom.”

Abby smiles at Clarke and squeezes her hands.

“And you think being married to Marcus would make me the happiest?”

Clarke smiles.

“Wouldn’t it?”

Abby laughs, then nods.

“It really would.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’ve both spent their lives inexorably fixated on doing precisely what was necessary, even if they’d spent equally as long fighting over what exactly that meant. Sometimes it seems like their one real indulgence is in allowing themselves to love one another.

Monty and Miller are arguing over something inane - Raven can’t quite be bothered enough to really figure it out. She looks around the open area in front of Arkadia in an attempt to tune out their voices and spots Kane and Abby at the far end of the pavilion. She watches idly as Abby gesticulates wildly, obviously making reference to the paper laid out in front of them. Abby pauses mid-explanation and Kane takes the opportunity to cup her face in his hands and lean in for a kiss. Abby’s shoulders drop as she winds her arms around him, deepening the kiss.

Raven scrunches her nose and looks away. The part of her that sees Abby as a friend is happy that she’s found someone to be happy with. The part of her that begrudgingly acknowledges Abby as a parental figure feels a little bit squeamish at seeing her making out with someone.

“I swear, those two are worse than Monty and Harper,” she announces to no one in particular.

Miller grins and opens his mouth, ready to supply what she’s sure is a snarky reply when Monty turns towards her, an affronted look on his face.

“Hey, we are not that bad,” Monty grumbles, interrupting whatever Miller was going to say.

Harper shakes her head, dropping into Monty’s lap as he loops his arms around her waist.

“And that’s exactly what Raven’s saying,” she says, looking over at Kane and Abby before turning back to face Raven. “It’s like they’re newlyweds. I feel like I can’t walk anywhere without tripping over the two of them together.”

Raven swivels in her seat to face Harper, her thoughts suddenly caught on Harper’s choice of words.

“Hey, so why do you think they aren’t married?”

“What, do you wanna take bets again?” Miller interjects with a sardonic grin.

“Take bets?” Murphy asks.

Raven turns to him.

“We started a betting pool last winter about when they’d finally just give in and bang.” She laughs at his grimace at her choice of words. She knows he’d never say it out loud, but Abby’s become the kind of mother that he probably always needed. Other than Kane, he’s spent the most time with Abby with these few months, training with her in medical and generally just learning how to function as a normal, caring human being. It’s not as if he’s exactly kind or nice now, but there’s a softness to him that she wouldn’t have ever thought was possible, as if his sharpest edges have been worn down by the ferocity of Abby’s compassion and affection.

She turns towards Miller.

“And no, I don’t want to take bets. I’m just curious why they aren’t married yet.”

Murphy taps the table in front of him, a pensive look on his face.

“I think I might have an idea but - .” He motions behind Raven, who turns and sees Bellamy and Clarke walking towards the group with a plate of food balanced between the two of them. “Those two might actually have the answer.”

“The answer to what?” Bellamy asks as he walks up, crossing his arms in front of him.

“Why your respective parents aren’t married,” Miller says with a grin.

“They’re everyone’s respective parents,” Clarke says drily, her words mirroring Raven’s thoughts. She doesn’t answer the question though - just looks at Bellamy expectantly.

He gives Clarke a long, inscrutable look before he replies.

“The answer,” he finally says, “from Kane’s side at least, is that there hasn’t really been time to plan a wedding.”

“What do they need to plan?” Monty asks, bewildered.

Raven can’t help but agree. Weddings on the Ark had been a quick and plain occasion, hardly enough to even warrant the moniker of a celebration. She’s seen old movies of weddings from Earth as it used to be, but for all that he’s changed since their time aboard the Ark, she can hardly imagine Kane as the type to allow for that level of sentiment and extravagance.

He might, she recognizes, if Abby were to want it - though she has a hard time imagining Abby would, either. They’ve both spent their lives inexorably fixated on doing precisely what was necessary, even if they’d spent equally as long fighting over what exactly that meant. Sometimes it seems like their one real indulgence is in allowing themselves to love one another.

“I remember Sinclair’s wedding,” she says out loud. “Thirty minutes in section 12, a sugarless cake, then everyone’s back to work.”

Bellamy shrugs and leans against the far wall with his arms crossed.

“Kane wants it to be different now that we’re on the ground.”

“Different how?” Raven asks with a furrow of her brows.

Bellamy suddenly looks away, focuses instead on brushing away fictitious lint from his jacket.

“Special, I think is the word he used - because we’re on the ground,” he finally says after a long moment. “And because it’s Abby,” he tacks on belatedly, the words half mumbled into his coat.

“And he thinks she’s special?” Raven says with a teasing grin, though mostly it’s in effort to hide the tenderness she knows has slipped into her tone. It seems she’s pegged Kane wrong - he’s become the type to want extravagance and sentiment after all.

Bellamy looks over at her and shrugs, though he doesn’t, she notes, disagree in any way. She lets her grin soften into a full-blown smile.

Clarke looks closely at Bellamy.

“I didn’t know that,” she says softly, almost to herself.  

Bellamy looks back down at his coat, a look that might be wariness flickering across his features.

“I’m - uh - not really sure I was supposed to share it.” He looks up at her and shrugs. “It kind of just came up on the way back from The Heights.”

“What are you even talking about where that kind of thing just comes up?” Miller wonders aloud, tilting his head in Bellamy’s direction.

“I honestly don’t think either of them really ever thought about it until we started bringing it up,” Clarke interjects when she sees the uncomfortable look on Bellamy’s face. The expression on his face slides into relief as he nods to her in thanks.

“Who’s we?” Harper asks.

Clarke motions to herself and Bellamy.

“I asked mom about it a week or so ago, and I know Jackson’s been bringing it up every now and then.”

Murphy snorts.

“Try every single conversation for the past two days.”

“I talked to Kane about it, obviously,” Bellamy adds. “But I only did because Octavia brought it up first. I think she talked to him about it almost a month ago.”

Miller raises an eyebrow.

“Assassin work must be pretty slow if she has time to think about Kane’s love life,” he says with a wry expression.  

Bellamy grimaces at the word assassin and turns away, suddenly interested in some movement in a far off corner of Arkadia. Clarke glares at Miller and his expression shifts into something approaching apologetic.

Raven shakes her head and moves to get up from where she’s perched the edge of a table. She makes sure to kick Miller as she does, offering him only an unapologetic smirk when he yelps out loud, then turns towards Clarke.

“So, what’d Abby say about it?”

Clarke shrugs.

“We didn’t get too into it. I just - .” She blows out a breath and shrugs again. “I just wanted to make sure she knew that I - that she - that they shouldn’t be worried about my reaction to it.”

Raven stares at her dumbly, surprised that Clarke’s reaction might even be issue. Then she shakes her head and thinks - _of course_. Sometimes she forgets that Clarke had been absent those three long winter months, when it had been obvious to everyone in Arkadia that they were witnessing Kane and Abby’s slow slide into love. By the time Clarke was back in their lives, the answer to the question of Kane and Abby was no longer _why_ or _how_ , but simply finally.

Raven catches Murphy looking over at Clarke appraisingly, sees Clarke nod back at him, and can’t help the small smile that comes over her own face. Murphy will never be her favorite person, but she can’t help but feel a sort of affinity with him - a fellow orphan who found the mother they had always hoped for in Abby. That he had a hand in pushing Clarke to talk to Abby, clearing up a worry that Raven hadn’t even considered, makes her that much more fond of him.

“Like I mentioned,” Clarke continues, “it hasn’t really been top of mind for either of them. They’re both so busy all the time, and they’re such a married couple already that I think they just took the actual wedding part of it for granted.”

“Huh,” Monty says thoughtfully. “I guess that makes sense.”

As if on cue, Kane and Abby walk past the group. Abby’s face is slightly red, her hair in an unusually messy ponytail. Kane’s hair is disheveled, his usually tidy shirt only half tucked in. Raven laughs out loud at the look of aversion clearly written on Bellamy, Clarke and Murphy’s face, even as she feels something similar.

“Alright, enough is enough,” Raven declares to the group, crossing her arms with finality. “I think we need to do something about them.”

“Soundproof their walls?” Monty suggests, only half-joking.

“Wear bells on our shoes to give them enough time to stop making out before we walk into a room?” Miller offers from the far end of the table.

Raven rolls her eyes.

“We don’t need to soundproof their walls,” she says, throwing a pointed look at Monty. “We just need to not be standing outside their door in the middle of the night.”

“Hey, I had a legitimate reason for needing to talk to him!”

“I didn’t say you didn’t.”

“Well,” Monty says with a pout, “you made me sound weird.

She leans forward with her eyebrow raised.

“Believe me, I don’t need to try very hard.”  

“I like the bells on the shoes idea,” Murphy offers.

“So,” Harper says, silencing the everyone around her with a look before glancing over at Raven. “What should we do something about?”

She smiles widely, and she can tell by the wary look in Bellamy’s eyes and the way that Miller leans forward eagerly that her enthusiasm is clearly evident.

“So, they do both want to be married,” she says, looking over at Bellamy and Clarke for an affirmation.

The two look at each other, then back at her.

“They do both want to be married,” Bellamy replies.

“It’s just the actual getting married, wedding part they need to figure out,” she continues.

This time Clarke answers.

“Basically, yes.”

Raven grins widely, the germination of an idea spreading out into a plan in her mind’s eye.

“Alright,” she says excitedly, rubbing her hands together, “that we can definitely do something about.”

* * *

“So, the good news is - you’re not dead.”

Octavia opens her eyes to see Murphy looking down at her, his features absent of his generally trademark smirk.

“What’s the bad news?”

“The bad news is that you’re a reckless fucking lunatic,” he says sardonically, an expression of simmering irritation in his eyes.

“That’s not actually news, Murphy.” She blinks rapidly, attempting to shake off the the haze from her vision and sit up.

“Hey, whoa,” he says, stepping quickly over to her and laying a hand on her shoulder. When she glares at him and throws off his arm, he lifts his hands up in front of him but otherwise keeps staring at her intently. “Listen, you’re bruised, well, everywhere. You have three broken ribs, your left arm is broken and you have stitches across your stomach that are the only thing keeping all your intestines from falling out. You need to take it easy.”

Her glare hardens but he takes it as an improvement in their relationship that she doesn’t immediately disregard all that he’s said. After a moment, she sighs heavily and slowly leans back in her bed.  

“Whatever,” she says, training her eyes on the ceiling above her.

He sits down next to her bed, a datapad in hand, and scrolls through her medical records. He gives a cursory glance over her history, then sets down the datapad in his lap.

“So, what happened?” He asks after it’s obvious that she isn’t going back to sleep.

She turns her head and stares at him sharply.

“Do you really - .” She stops herself and swallows back the words. This is close to the fifth time he’s patched her up. Asking him if he even cares at this point is a little much. She breathes out heavily and softens her tone. “I mean, does it really matter?”

He shrugs.

“Well, you’re not going to like what I’m going to tell you next, so I’m hoping that whatever shit you got into this time was worth it.” He crosses his arms and drums his fingers across his bicep. “You’ll have to stay in bed for the rest of this week. And honestly, you shouldn’t do anything particularly strenuous for about the next month. It’d probably be best for you to stay around Arkadia.”

Her eyes narrow at him, her lips curling into a scowl. Before she can open her mouth to toss out whatever cruelly glib reply he’s sure is on the tip of her tongue, he taps the IV that’s nestled in her arm.

“Kane must’ve donated about half the blood in his body to keep you alive. Probably would’ve donated more if we didn’t forcibly kick him out of here.” He glances up at her, satisfied at the guilty look on her face. “The least you could do is stick around a bit longer so he doesn’t go out of his mind with worry for you. Plus, it’d be nice to show him that you’re not a completely ungrateful asshole.”

She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him so long that it becomes unsettling. It doesn’t quite have the look of a predator circling its prey, so it’s only disconcerting rather than disquieting.

Finally, she nods slowly.

“Ok.”

His eyebrows shoot up. He has to swallow a few times before he continues.

“Ok? That’s it?”

She looks down at the IV in her arm, then back at him.

“It’s like you said, right? I shouldn’t be a completely ungrateful asshole about this.”

“Huh,” he says, glad that he finally has something that’ll make her a reasonable person to deal with. “You’re serious.”

She huffs quietly, an irritated sound that’s at odds with the glint of amusement in her eyes.

“Why, would it change if I said anything different?”

“Well, no but - .”

She shrugs.

“It’s fine, Murphy.”

He stares at her for a long moment, then shrugs before picking up the datapad and standing back up. Octavia’s unpredictability is nothing new to him and he can’t say he isn’t glad to go one month without having to piece her back together again.

“Alright then.”

  
She nods, then fixes him with a piercing stare.

“So, summer solstice,” she says, as if continuing some previous conversation.

They aren’t, though, so he just offers the only comment that makes sense to him.

“Is the longest day of the year,” he replies, suddenly glad that he’d paid attention in Earth Skills.

She rolls her eyes but continues on undeterred.

“I think we should have it on summer solstice.”

Murphy furrows his brow in confusion. He thinks for a moment that maybe he should re-evaluate her for a concussion.

“What are we having?”

She rolls her eyes at him and blows out an impatient breath, as if it’s his fault he can’t decipher whatever random train of thought she’s speeding away on. He bends down and tries to see if her pupils are dilated, but she just shakes her head at him and pushes herself up on the bed.

“Raven’s plan, Murphy.”

He tilts his head in surprise.

“You know about that?”

She nods.   
  


“Bellamy told me. I think it’s a good plan.”

He raises his eyebrow at that.  

“You and Bellamy are talking?”

She shrugs as if this news isn’t a reversal of the Blake siblings’ dynamic for the past few months. He’s practiced enough in the art of evasion to recognize the movement for what it is - a deflection of a deeper, more difficult answer.

“Well, neither of us are mute.”

He looks at her wryly and crosses his arms in front of him.

“Cute. I just meant I didn’t think you two were on speaking terms.”

She looks away from him, speaking the next words into the air above her. They’re a quiet confession, shot through with resignation and acceptance and something that might be mistaken for affection.   

“He’s my brother.”

He sits back down and looks closely at her.  

“Yeah, I know that. I just wasn’t sure that still meant something to you.”

She doesn’t answer him, but her lack of one is confirmation enough anyway.

He leans back in his chair. She’s half-turned away from him, her eyes still focused on some point above her. Even if he cared enough to prod her further, he knows that he’d get nothing else out of her about it. Besides, it’s enough to know that she’s at least trying to repair whatever is frayed between her and Bellamy. He hopes it’s a sign of progress which, of course, only matters to him because he’s tired of seeing the look on Kane and Abby’s face when she shows up at the gates bleeding from a dozen different stab wounds .

“So, summer solstice, huh?” He says to break the silence. “What’s the thought process behind that?”

She turns back towards him, an excitement in her eyes that almost seems odd for not being about violence or vengeance.

“Plenty of grounder clans plan a celebration on that day. We could just say that we want to show solidarity and establish our own traditions on the ground. Plus, there’ll be enough of us involved that they won’t even need to oversee any sort of planning. All they’ll need to do is approve it.”

He nods.

“So, you gonna have Clarke and Bellamy talk about it with the two of them?”

She shakes her head.

“No, I think it should be me and Bellamy. Kane will be stupidly happy that we’re actually getting along. It’ll be next to impossible for him to not give us what we want.”

He smirks at her.  

“Huh. So much strategizing. That’s surprising coming from you.”

She scowls at him, though there’s a performative aspect to it.

“Yeah, well, this isn’t exactly a stab first, ask questions later kind of occasion. And besides, I’m not completely without restraint.”  

He raises an eyebrow and motions to indicate her place on the bed.

“I have about four pages of medical history which say otherwise.”

Before she can reply, the door to medical slides open and they both look up as Kane and Abby step through, deep in conversation. Kane immediately looks towards Octavia’s bed, a look of pure relief and happiness lighting across his face when he sees she’s awake.

“What’s he doing here?” Octavia asks. “I mean, it’s noon,” she clarifies when Murphy looks down at her with a puzzled expression. “He usually isn’t free of all his Chancellor duties until early evening.”

Murphy huffs and gives her a sardonic grin.

“He’s never free of his Chancellor duties. But someone got themselves sliced up to hell, so he’s been here about once every other hour for the last three days.” He looks down at her and takes in her stunned expression. “He and your brother switch off hours, by the way. I can’t get through an entire shift without tripping over your family.”

She blinks rapidly at his words.

“Kane’s not - he isn’t family.”

Murphy adopts her trademark move and rolls his eyes. From the affronted yet vaguely impressed look on her face, he figures he has the move down rather well.

“Right,” he says in the driest tone he can manage, “just like he and Abby aren’t old marrieds.”

Octavia just stares at him, still looking dumbfounded. For a moment, he’s tempted to make a comment about how he’s surprised these Blake siblings aren’t constantly running into walls since they seem to miss things that are right in front of them, things that everyone else seems to notice but them.

He doesn’t - Octavia is deep in thought and he figures she wouldn’t quite catch onto the joke anyway.

“Alright well, I’m gonna go and talk to your dad,” he says, meaning the last word as a tease and expecting her to roll her eyes. Instead, an awed sort of realization creeps over her face - the corners of her mouth turning up and her eyes softening into something he might call tender. It actually makes him want to roll his eyes. “I’ll let him know about your sudden transformation into someone who’s not a complete pain in the ass,” he continues, ignoring her moment of epiphany. “He probably has some big, stupid speech prepared to try and convince you to stick around.”

He doesn’t wait for her reply, just walks over to where Kane is standing with Abby.

“How is she?” Kane asks immediately, eyes darting over to where Octavia is resting.

“A pain in the ass, so we can all assume she’s recovering just fine.” He smirks at the look of relief on Kane’s face. “Also, you can shove whatever speech you were gonna make to convince her to stay in Arkadia while she recovers. She already agreed to not go scampering back off into the woods for the next month or so.”

Kane’s eyes widen, while Abby just looks at him appraisingly.

“How did you manage that?” Kane asks.

Murphy shrugs.

“My superior bedside manner.”

Kane huffs a laugh then claps him on the shoulder, squeezing firmly before heading over to talk to Octavia.

Abby turns towards Murphy with a smile.

“Nice work, John. Marcus would’ve worried about her constantly otherwise.”

He nods and busies himself with the datapad in his hands.

“I know. And that’s exactly what I said to get her to stay.”   

She raises an eyebrow.

“Really?”

He smirks at her.

“Well, I might’ve also thrown in something about not being an ungrateful asshole seeing as Kane basically drained all his blood to keep her alive.” He shrugs. “Whatever works, right?”

She laughs.

“It’s an interesting approach to bedside manner but - .” She smiles and lifts her shoulders. “It worked, so maybe yours really is superior. I think this is the first time in a long time that she’s actually listened when someone told her that she needed to take it easy.” She reaches out and squeezes his arm gently. “Thank you, John.”

He rubs the back of his neck and looks away, unable to meet the affection in her eyes.

“Yeah, well. Octavia’s selfish and fucked up and angry. It’s something I can relate to.” He breathes out heavily. “She just needs to be reminded that people still care about her, despite all that. Sometimes that can keep you from being a completely selfish prick.” He finally glances up to meet Abby’s eyes, the look in them tender and warm in a way that makes him forego his usual smirk. Instead, he smiles at her, the movement wide and genuine in a way that feels foreign but not - he thinks - altogether unwelcome.

She meets his smile with one of her own and squeezes his arm again.

“You really do have superior bedside manner.”

“Well,” he says quietly, the open affection of his next words as strange to him as they are sincere, “I learned from the best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know. My bias for Octavia and Murphy very clearly shines through. But I just...can't help it? I love difficult characters.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke nods, turning Raven’s words over in her mind. She’s known this about her mother from as long as she can remember - her intensity in loving, the way she could focus all her energy on those around her. But Kane’s depth of emotion still surprises her sometimes, though more and more she realizes that it’s an unfair sentiment. It’s the same intensity of feeling he’s always had, she thinks, only focused in a wholly new way. On the Ark, his commitment had been to humanity at large, his allegiance to the preservation of some remote greater good; his devotion to her mother is that commitment writ smaller, his loyalty the same brand of allegiance now given a shape and a heart and a future.

Looking back on it, he realizes that he should’ve suspected something when Octavia brought up the idea of a weekly movie night. **  
**

* * *

“A movie night?” He asks, looking down at Octavia in the hospital bed, a completely bewildered expression on his face.

She shrugs, as if this is a perfectly reasonable request. Bellamy, too, at her side, looks completely nonplussed.

He crosses his arms in front of him, unable to keep a look of skepticism from skittering across his features.

“You just asked me to approve a summer solstice festival.”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, and now we’re asking you to approve a weekly movie night,” she says, nonchalant and casual in a way that only heightens his skepticism. As if she hasn’t spent the last few months cutting a wide swath of vengeance through rebellious grounder factions and has instead been planning Arkadia’s community events.

Bellamy looks down at her and then back up at him. There’s a nervous sort of energy to him that Marcus can’t quite figure out, though he has a sneaking suspicion that getting Bellamy alone might prove productive.

“It’ll be good for everyone, sir,” Bellamy says, nodding at nothing in particular. “Boost morale. We haven’t had a chance to do anything just - you know - for fun since - .”

“Since you all shoved us a ship and sent us down here to die,” Octavia finishes up for him. She huffs and shakes her head. “Or really ever,” she says bluntly. The words hold no malice behind him; she says them as if she’s commenting on the weather or the next location of the traveling market. Still, part of him wants to flinch away from them.  

He sighs and rubs a hand across his beard, considering. Finally, he looks over at them, his shoulders slumped in acquiescence.

“Do we even have any movies?”

Octavia and Bellamy look at each other, then burst out laughing. He might be slightly offended if he weren’t so glad to see them actually getting along.

A few hours later, as he’s astounded by the vastness of their movie collection, he understands their laughter.

“I can’t believe we have so many movies,” he bursts out during dinner that night with Abby.

She raises an eyebrow at him, but simply keeps eating her summer squash as he continues on.

“I can think of a dozen things off the top of my head that we could use more than those movies.” He crosses his arms in front of him, listing each item on his fingers. “We could’ve used more of the medical equipment down there. Those history books I saw in the back quarter would be useful, too. And yet, somehow, almost every dvd from the collection found its way over here.”

She laughs.

He looks at her, his expression communicating deep disappointment.

“Abby.”

She stops laughing but can’t keep from smiling up at him.

“What? That’s what happens when you put teenagers in charge of deciding what to salvage in the archives room.” She reaches across the table and tugs on his wrist, twining their fingers together when he uncrosses his arms. “And besides, there’s something hopeful about the whole thing. Like they were trying to imagine a world where we’d need movies more than we needed guns.”

“We need both,” he grumbles, but squeezes her hand anyway, somewhat mollified.

* * *

Two nights later, as they’re sitting down in a crowded mess hall watching some absurdly romantic movie, Bellamy feels Octavia’s sharp elbow dig into his rib. She points to the entrance. He turns to see Kane shuffling in about a quarter of the way through the movie. He watches as Kane carefully picks his way through the crowd and slides into a seat next to Abby, looking around then kissing her on the cheek as he settles in. Kane leans in close to whisper something in Abby’s ear but she only reaches up to pat his cheek and points to the movie, effectively hushing him. Bellamy grins.

“Finally he gets here,” Octavia breathes out next to him, impatience lighting across every word.

He shifts in his chair to look over at her sitting in a wheelchair, her body piled high with blankets.

“He only missed the first twenty minutes. The scene we want him to see isn’t until close to the end.”

She nods and moves her attention back to the movie, though he knows she spends most of it surreptitiously glancing over at Kane and Abby. He only knows this, of course, because he does as well.

With thirty minutes left, he feels a hard tap on the back of his neck. He turns around and finds himself looking at Murphy, whose expression is somewhere between annoyed and amused.

“Will you two cut it the fuck out,” he hisses, very obviously keeping his gaze from Kane and Abby’s direction. “You’re lucky that they’re both so focused on the movie that they can’t see how goddamn creepy you’re all being.”

“What do you mean - ,” Bellamy starts, but is interrupted by a sound he feels like he hasn’t  heard in years.

Octavia is giggling.

He looks over at her and his heart aches even as his face involuntarily breaks into a smile so big his cheeks hurt. She looks over at him and her eyes are shining with delight, a giggle tumbling out of her; he thinks his chest might crack with the twin pressures of nostalgia and regret thumping in his veins. She sounds as young as he’d tried to keep her, once; carefree in a way he knows she’ll never really be again.

“Bellamy, look,” she says in a hushed voice, grabbing his arm. He follows her gaze and almost laughs out loud himself.

Kane and Abby are entranced by the scene that’s projected above them, both leaning forward and staring intently, oblivious to all else. Which is just as well because Clarke, Raven, Harper, Monty, Miller and Brian are all turned in their chairs facing them rather than the movie at the front of the room. Raven and Clarke’s eyes dart back and forth between the two and the movie, their heads bent together closely in whispered conversation, while Monty seems to literally be taking down notes on a pad of paper in front of him.

Murphy huffs quietly behind him and shakes his head, but even he lets a smile slip out.

“At least we know they’re paying attention to what we wanted,” he drawls out, sparing a glance at Kane and Abby before turning back to the screen.

* * *

The credits are still rolling across the projected screen when Abby steps over and gives Clarke a hug good night. Clarke hugs her back, making sure to say good night to Kane as she does, always cognizant to acknowledge them as a unit. He smiles at her and, after a hesitant moment, reaches out to squeeze her gently on her shoulder. She sees her mother watching the whole exchange with a small, tender smile on her face and feels a warring sensation of affection and exasperation.  

With one last smile, her mother turns away as she and Kane make their way out of the still-crowded mess hall, walking so closely that their hands brush up against each other with every step. It isn’t until they’re almost completely out of sight that Clarke sees Kane rest his arm across her mother’s shoulder and pull Abby in closer to drop a kiss into her hairline.

She huffs and shakes her head.

“Seriously,” Raven says next to her, “they do realize that we all know they’re together now, right? It’s like they’re only affectionate if they think no one’s watching.” She grimaces. “And then it’s too much.”

Something in Clarke’s chest loosens as she looks up at Raven.

“So, it’s not just me?”

Raven raises an eyebrow at her.

“I just told you it wasn’t.” She pauses and takes in Clarke’s confused look. “Oh, you mean do they do that with just you.” She shakes her head. “Even before they were really together” she says, waving her hand in a backwards motion, “they were like that.”

It isn’t the first time she’s heard the modifier - or one like it - when describing her mother and Kane.

“Before they were _actually_ or _officially_ or _finally_ together,” has been a phrase she’s come to associate with her mother and Kane and those long winter months that she doesn’t fit into.

“What were they like? How did you all know - before?” She asks, suddenly realizing how much she wants to know, how odd it is that she doesn’t. She’s spent nearly 18 years memorizing the shape of her mother; now she feels like there are new edges and angles and facets that she’s not quite sure how to touch.

Raven smirks, a wry expression on her face.

“It was kind of hard to miss.”

“What do you mean?”  

“Well, for one - they were always together. Kane spent about half of his day just randomly dropping by medical for some fabricated reason. And Abby spent so much time in Kane’s room, talking Chancellor duties or whatever, that she might as well have moved in there. Also, your mom was always be touching him. Nothing big - just a hand on his shoulder, a touch on his arm, standing close enough to brush up against him. And Kane,” Raven huffs a laugh and shakes her head. “It’s like he was always holding himself back from touching her.”

“He’s still like that, sometimes,” Clarke comments, thinking of all the times that she’s seen him reach out in a stuttering way, or how his expression will register as surprised for the slightest moment every time her mom reaches out to him. “Like he’s unsure about touching her.”   

Raven nods.

“I think he’s still surprised that he’s allowed to.”

Clarke leans forward, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“But how did they get there? They were - .” She stops, suddenly unsure of the word to describe what they had been to one another when she’d left. Even then, enemies had already been outdated, friends not quite descriptive enough, either. “It just surprised me when I came back, I guess.”

Raven taps her fingers on the table and tilts her head as she considers Clarke’s question.

“It was hard on your mom when - .” Raven stops herself before the words come out, but Clarke still sees them hang in the air between them:

 _When I left,_ she thinks, her heart thudding painfully in her chests

“She was recovering after Mt. Weather,” Raven finishes up instead, looking away from Clarke for a moment. Allowing them both to brush past the pain of it all. “Once she did, she just threw herself into work. I doubt she slept for a week straight once she was back on her feet.” The corner of Raven’s mouth turns up. “So Kane would walk her to her room to make sure she actually got some sleep.”

Clarke draws back and looks closely at Raven.

“How often?”

Raven looks closely at Clarke .

“Every night.” She takes in Clarke’s look of surprise and nods. “He was the only one who could actually get her to actually go sleep. Sometimes one of us would find her asleep at her desk or in the inventory room or in a booth in the dining hall, but if we woke her up, she’d just go right back to work. So eventually, we’d all just go find Kane because we knew she’d actually listen to him.”

Raven leans back in her chair and crosses her arms in front of her.

“It’s funny, because it’s not like Kane spent a lot of time taking care of himself. Your mom started eating lunch with him during the day to make sure he was actually taking the time to eat. Eventually, they just ended up spending most of their time together, each one making sure that the other person was ok.” She shakes her head, a look of fond exasperation on her face. “Turns out they’re both better at taking care of other people than they are of themselves.”

Clarke nods, turning Raven’s words over in her mind. She’s known this about her mother from as long as she can remember - her intensity in loving, the way she could focus all her energy on those around her. But Kane’s depth of emotion still surprises her sometimes, though more and more she realizes that it’s an unfair sentiment. It’s the same intensity of feeling he’s always had, she thinks, only focused in a wholly new way. On the Ark, his commitment had been to humanity at large, his allegiance to the preservation of some remote greater good; his devotion to her mother is that commitment writ smaller, his loyalty the same brand of allegiance now given a shape and a heart and a future.

“Lucky they have each other, then,” she finally says, surprised at the emotion she feels as she says the words. Not just in her belief in them, but in the honesty behind them. She looks away from Raven, focusing on her hands as she speaks. “I needed to be gone,” she says quietly, a truth she hates to confess. “I know - .”  She blows out a breath. “I wish that weren’t true. Because then things - other things - could’ve been different. Better, maybe.”

Raven stares thoughtfully at Clarke.

“You don’t think it would’ve happened if you’d been around?”

Clarke thinks for a moment, then shakes her head.

“I think it would’ve happened either way,” she says, thinking of the look on Kane’s face when her mother was strapped to that table in Mt. Weather, the way her mother reached out to Kane rather than her on the road home. She wonders, though, if her presence would’ve prolonged the inevitable. If her mother and Kane would’ve given in when they could no longer deny it, rather than when they both desperately needed it.

Raven looks at her for a long moment, considering her words, then shrugs.

“You’re probably right there.” She tilts her head at Clarke. “But I gotta say that I’m glad you’re around this time, even if it means that they’re taking their sweet time getting married.” She leans over and knocks her shoulder into Clarke. “We can’t just rely on my awesome brain to make this happen. We need you to order everyone around and make sure things actually get done.”

Clarke chuckles, then bumps her shoulder back into Raven.

“Glad I have some use to you.”

Raven’s smirk widens, turns in a genuine smile that brightens her entire face.

“Hey, that’s more than I can say of most people. You should feel special.”

Clarke nods and returns Raven’s smile with a small one of her own.

“I do.”


End file.
